Everyday life as a Domina

Tag Archives: sissy bitch

He had a dream last week, that he shared with me. In it, I give him the ability to help decide what I will do to him next time I see him. I do this by telling him to find me a hot sissy caption each morning. Each picture is assigned a number of points, and if he meets certain thresholds, he’s able to avoid certain unpleasant things.

Which is a fucking awesome idea, m’kay. Like seriously.

So of course, this week, I wanted to do it. We started on Monday, and I’m going to see him on Sunday. He sends me one picture each morning, and each picture is given a score between 1 and 5.

To avoid figging, he must earn 5 points.

10 to avoid ass to mouth.

15 to avoid Kazander Topping him for the entire evening.

20 to avoid being spitroasted.

25 to avoid begging Kazander to fuck him.

And 30 to avoid begging Kazander to be allowed to suck his cock.

The first two pictures he sent me were good, with one earning 3 and the other earning 4. On Wednesday, the one he sent was really hot, and earned him 5 points.

On Thursday, he went with a different tactic. Instead of looking for a picture online, he took one of the photos he’d taken for me, and added his own caption to it.

It was beyond hot. I absolutely loved it. And I wasn’t expecting it at all. I broke my own rule, but the reaction he got out of me deserved something extra. I gave him 6 points.

And that put him up to 18.

That picture shows his face, so it won’t be posted here, but the one he sent this morning is perfectly fine.

And amazing.

I took the photo last Sunday. He edited it and wrote the caption, and gave it to me today.

Definitely worth 5 points. Which puts him up to 23. And he’s still got two more days, and only needs 7 more points.

Next time we play this game, I’ll have to make it harder. But isn’t my sissy so creative?

Okay, so first, it’s been a few days on the antibiotic, and I’m actually doing alright. Just nausea, headaches, and cramps so far.

And as long as I don’t eat or drink anything, and am not exposed to any kind of strong smell, the nausea is totally manageable.

The point is it’s not sucking as bad as the doctor said it would so far. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.

And the past couple of days, I’ve had something totally fucking awesome to focus on.

Which would be shopping for a new bedding set for my darling sissy.

What he’s got on his bed now is typical of what you’d find in any normal man’s house. And my sissy is neither normal nor a man. So he needs something to better reflect his true self.

He’d be so much more comfortable in something that more closely resembles who he is inside.

Isn’t he lucky that he’s owned by the kind of caring, compassionate woman who would notice such a problem and work to fix it?

Actually, we can thank him for me noticing the problem. He introduced me to a fantastic new sissy website, thesissystore.com, and I immediately fell in love.

No seriously, I love that site.

But as I was perusing through it, I noticed an unexpected category: “Bedding.”

Now, the category was actually nothing special. Just a couple of pillowcases and a pajama set (which my sissy already has). But it gave me the idea to redo his bed.

A sissy bed for the sissy. It’s so fitting.

But there are so many wonderful options to choose from!

Like this one.

Or this one.

And isn’t this one lovely?

I mean, there are so many options.

Sooo many options.

And of course, solid pink isn’t the only one available. There are some very adorable ones with pink and white trim.

I mean, just so precious. And while I certainly love pink, we can’t discount other colors, either. There are some lovely options in blue

So there is plenty to choose from. Plenty of options to make him feel like a comfy, cozy sissy all night.

And some of them look very cute and youthful, but there are more “grown-up” options, too.

Isn’t it so elegant?

And here’s the plan, I’m totally excited about the plan. He’s going to order the set, but he’s not going to have a single clue about what it looks like, and it’s going to be shipped to my house.

When it gets in, I’m not going to tell him. I’m going to go to his house, while he’s at work, and put it on his bed, and make it look all pretty. Then I’m going to leave, so he’ll have no idea I was there.

He’ll get home, walk into his house, completely unsuspecting, then walk into his bedroom to see his new gorgeous sissy bedding there, waiting for him.

Of course he’ll know it’s coming, but he won’t know when. He’ll just come home from work like any normal day, and there it’ll be, in all its pink, lacy, frilly glory.

I’m unbelievably stoked.

But now, it’s not all about just picking the prettiest picture. There’s more to it than that.

First of all, the whole reason I’m doing this is to make him feel like a sissy. All of these bedsets would certainly accomplish that… at first.

But he’s going to be sleeping in it every night. He’s going to have to deal with it, day in and day out, indefinitely.

So that’s something to keep in mind as I’m shopping. Some of those sets look absolutely amazing, but with all the bows and lace and frills, much of a pain in the ass is it going to be to take care of? Can it be machine washed or does it have to be dry-cleaned? How big and heavy is it?

And on that note, he’s a hot sleeper, so that’s something to take into account as well. Super thick, heavy comforters may look pretty, but they’ll be just stifling to actually sleep in. We live in Las Vegas. It’s a desert. It’s 120 degrees in the summer (that’s 49 degrees celsius, for my readers outside of the US).

I don’t want the discomfort and the inconvenience of any set to start overshadowing the sissy factor.

So maybe something a little lighter, a little simpler, would be the way to go.

And it being lighter doesn’t necessarily make it any less frilly.

Isn’t this precious?

These are all super feminine and sweet. So maybe a less-is-more approach will be more practical in the day-to-day, while still driving home the fact that he’s a sissy.

And then there’s another approach. I could go with something more trendy and modern, something you might find in a normal, everyday woman’s house.

Like this, isn’t this pretty?

And since Paris-themed bedding is all the rage now, maybe something like these.

So I mean, there are so many options that may be a little lighter.

But then again, I do love the more ornate ones.

So those are some great options. But still, there’s more to think about.

Some of these are only available on sites like aliexpress or dhgate. If you’re not familiar with either of those, think Amazon, but for Chinese sellers. And not all of those sellers are reputable. Also, most of them don’t speak English, or speak very broken English. I’ve gotten a couple things from aliexpress, and I know some people who have had mixed experiences with either aliexpress or dhgate. It’s a legitimate risk if you’re not buying from an established seller, and none of the sellers that provide these sets have enough of a history and enough customer feedback to make me feel comfortable buying from them.

And then there’s the issue of price. Some of these are over $500. And most of them are duvet cover sets, that only come with the duvet covers, bed skirts, and decorative pillows/pillowcases. So I need to get the duvet insert and sheets separately. I mean, that’s just insane.

So there’s a lot to think about. And then of course there’s the humiliation sissy factor (ie, the fun part). Eventually his entire room is going to be a beautiful, pink, sissy heaven. It’s exciting.

I’m beyond excited, dude.

I can’t wait. It’s going to be so epic when it gets in, and he comes home to see it on his bed. I’m actually tempted to time it so that I finish up just as he’s getting home, so I’ll be there to see his face.

I’d have to do something with my car if I go that route, though. I still wouldn’t want him to know, I’d want him to be surprised. Seeing him walk into the bedroom, seeing the look on his face as he sees his new sissy bed for the first time would be epic.

And how awesome is it going to be the first time a man comes to fuck his mouth on his new sissy bed? Man, it’s just an obscene amount of awesomeness.

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All pictures posted on this blog are either taken by me or shamelessly swiped from the interwebs and assumed to be public domain. If you own a picture posted here and wish it taken down, please contact me at dominajen@yahoo.com.

What this blog is

This is an 18+ blog about my day-to-day life as a Domina, wife, mother, and all that other crap. A chronicle of me. While this blog focuses primarily on the D/s aspect of my life and my relationships with Kazander, Steel, and Sounder, it is not exclusive to that subject, and I might talk about my kid, or my annoying mother, or my sister's pet cat, or whatever the hell I feel like talking about.

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Steel’s Blog: Grind_'n'_Throb

It begins over a friendly disagreement, during which you smile, roll your eyes, and say, “Go fuck yourself.”

“But, Ma’am, that’s physically impossible.”

You smirk and ask how certain I am of this. On a roll, I launch into a smug and tangential rant about the anatomical impossibility of an individual’s being capable of fucking oneself. Your response is to merely shrug, smile, and make a cryptic statement:

“Don’t be so sure…”

Later that evening, you tell me bedtime will be early, an hour early to be exact. The amused look on your face says it would be in my best interests not to argue.

Sometimes I fall into a vicious cycle where I’m mentally and emotionally frustrated and cannot manage to channel that energy into productive avenues. In the old days, this would lead to drinking or drugs, but I don’t do that anymore. Instead, I try to go about my day, generally fail to complete mundane tasks and end up feeling ‘stuck’ – this progresses into a cycle of mild depression, feelings of inertia, guilt over said inertia, and then on and on it goes until something snaps me out of it.

It feels like I’m seated in a car stuck in neutral yet compelled to rev the engine until it screams.

When did I last curl up in her lap? It’s been so long, I cannot recall. Despite numbered boxcars on the calendar and the disinterested faces of clocks, a concrete memory eludes me. Time, location, and date, they’re merely three dimensions after all.